Here is a list of some of the resources and sites referenced in the show:

Ernest Adams' homepage: The Designer's Notebook
James Gee's Games + Learning + Society page at the University of Wisconsin-Madison
Henry Jenkins' website at MIT
Ernest Adams' Gamasutra article, "You Must Play Façade, Now!"
Henry Jenkins' article, "Games, the New Lively Art"
Kyle Orland's article, "It's Our Fault Video Games Aren't Considered Art"
Homepage for A Tale In The Desert
Next Generation's coverage of OPM's James Mielke interview with Hideo Kojima: "Games Are Not Art"
Jeremy Parish of ToastyFrog.com's case for games as art: "Wherefore art?"
Digital Eel's Weird Worlds: Strange Adventures in Infinite Space homepage and links.
Bethesda Softworks' The Elder Scrolls.

Merriam-Webster's definition of art is: "The conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects; also : works so produced."

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I recently read James Mielke's excellent interview with visionary game designer and producer, Hideo Kojima in the February issue of The Official U.S. Playstation Magazine. In the course of their conversation, Mielke and Kojima get into a brief discussion on Roger Ebert's assessment that videogames can never be viewed as art.

Before you all start flaming Hideo Kojima on the subject -- Roger Ebert has already received his share of irate rebuttal -- I believe it is instructive to understand his and Ebert's viewpoints. (By the way, I do not feel that flaming people who offer opinions that might be perceived to be anti-gaming, or that simply do not coincide with your own is productive. If you must lodge a complaint, for the sake of the industry you represent, please try to do so in a civil, well-reasoned, and even handed manner.)

Ebert says that: "...I did indeed consider video games inherently inferior to film and literature. There is a structural reason for that: Video games by their nature require player choices, which is the opposite of the strategy of serious film and literature, which requires authorial control...[T]he nature of the medium prevents it from moving beyond craftsmanship [however elegant or sophisticated] to the stature of art. To my knowledge, no one in or out of the field has ever been able to cite a game worthy of comparison with the great dramatists, poets, filmmakers, novelists and composers... for most gamers, video games represent a loss of those precious hours we have available to make ourselves more cultured, civilized and empathetic."

In typical Japanese fashion, Kojima is rather elliptical in his reply: "...art is something that radiates the artist, the person who creates that piece of art. If 100 people walk by and a single person is captivated by whatever that piece radiates, it's art. But videogames aren't trying to capture one person. A videogame should make sure that all 100 people that play that game should enjoy the service provided by that videogame. It's something of a service. It's not art. But I guess the way of providing service with that videogame is an artistic style, a form of art."

Although I feel that Kojima's thesis differs in significant ways from Ebert's, they share a notion that art is an expression of an individual: an "artist." And that the intention of this expression is intrinsic to the definition of "art." It is unstated, but implied that the artist intends for his or her expression to be rather singular in intent and interpretation. In Ebert's case, this falls under the assertion of "authorial control." In Kojima's case, he explains that he is merely providing "a canvas and paint and the paintbrushes" as a "service" to the people who play the game; that the expression of the medium is not coming from the creator of the medium, but rather from its participants. But Ebert offers the additional claim that the act of playing games holds no inherent value.

My personal opinion is that Ebert and Kojima both advance a rather narrow definition of art. If you ask a bunch of academics, critics, or artists themselves to provide you with a pithy definition of art -- or perhaps more specifically, fine art -- you will probably get as many answers as respondents.

According to Henry Jenkins: "Let's be clear here. All games are art...In a superficial sense, we could point to examples (of in-game assets) which could be described as professionally competent and well-produced. In a higher sense, we look for works that create new expressive experiences or push a medium to places it hasn't gone before."

From Ebert and Kojima's perspective, perhaps these goals aren't possible without an artist's embedded intention or narrative. To simply hand over the medium, whether it be canvas and paint, or pixels and input device to an experiencer in their view, removes an essential component of what makes art, "art." Namely, the intrinsic, guiding hand of the artist. Rather than the extrinsic, emergent qualities found in interactive entertainment.

Personally, I acknowledge that we haven't yet seen many examples of the medium which could be generally described as "works of art," at least as understood by a consensus view of what is considered canonical art. But I would like to allow that video and computer games might start to define an emerging notion of a unique kind of commentary or experience, due to the very fact that a participant has more direct input on the experience itself. Particularly in the fields of emergent drama or storytelling or interactive performance with other people. Such as in the case of Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games, like World of Warcraft.

And even in the case of single-player games, the craft and artistry of the game designer could define a rich and directed experience illuminating the general human condition, the creator's comment on his or her world, or reflective of the medium itself. Professor James Gee views games as being a particular kind of virtually-embodied performance art, where there is a unique interaction between the intention of the game designer providing "a trajectory of choices," and the game player.

In other words, James Gee and Henry Jenkins assert that the interactive experience in itself can be described as artistic, and games as a form of art wholly deserving of inherent value as an experience, in the same manner as film, or novels, or other works that are generally accepted as art. And, I would like to note, as deserving of First Amendment protections as any other form of expression. A point which obviously is lost on many politicians, moral reformers, and anti-game crusaders and special interest groups.

As far as the elements that comprise that experience, such as the visual components of 2D and 3D design, animation, music, sound, and storytelling can also be artistic, I do not separate the granular components of the medium from the overall interactive experience. Any more than I would separate the screenplay, cinematography, editorial, musical score, acting, set design, title design, or any other granular component from film. Nor would I make the same qualitative comparisons between, say the style and quality of writing in a screenplay and the prose of a novel.

All parts work in complete communication of an experience unique to the medium they service. In this way, my personal thesis of games as art differs from Kojima's. Kojima makes the analogy of a videogame as being comparable to a museum: "Art is the stuff you find in the museum, whether it be a painting or a statue. What I'm doing, what videogame creators are doing, is running the museum -- how do we light up things, where do we place things, how do we sell tickets? It's basically running the museum for those who come to the museum to look at the art. For better or worse, what I do, Hideo Kojima, myself, is run the museum and also create the art that's displayed in the museum."

It is my opinion that Mr. Kojima sorely understates the importance of his role. In my view, he is not a mere curator. He is an artist. And not just of "the art that's displayed in the museum," but of the holistic experience itself. He is a wonderful game designer, and should acknowledge the significance of his accomplishments as far as he is clearly embracing the weight of his role in creating compelling experiences. I also feel that a very public assertion that games are not art coming from one of our most visionary game designers only serves to hurt the medium. I am sorry he feels that way. I am even sorrier that he broadcasts these feelings to the enthusiast press, his fans, and by extension, the non-gaming world.

This might get to a notion of his humility. Earlier in the interview, he explained that most of the Japanese press call into question the title that most of his fans confer on him. The adoring otaku refer to him as, "Kojima-kantoku." The word, kantoku loosely translates to "director," as in film director. In Japan, film directors such as Akira Kurosawa are revered as bona-fide artists. So the question is intended to ask if Kojima, himself thinks of himself as being in the same league as a film director. And by extension, videogames as being in the same league as film. In Japan, as in America, the public consensus is that videogames are an inferior medium compared to film. So I wonder how much of his assertion is deferring to the general view, so as not to appear unduly arrogant.

In games, I propose that developers and game designers have an obligation to explore the medium's unique interactive elements, and to strive to understand the aesthetics and push the limits of those components. And apply what they learn toward the question of why they are creating the game in the first place. If the medium is to move forward, developers and designers should start to ask themselves these questions of intent, and regard what they are creating as worthy of the effort.

Kojima himself comes up with an interesting example: an unbeatable videogame: "Maybe let's say there's a game out there where there's a boss that you cannot defeat. It's made that way. Normally, when you beat the boss in a game, there's a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, but if you can't beat the boss at all, if what you're left with is a sense of loss, then maybe that could be defined as art." But, he goes on to caveat his example by saying: "That's why you want to think about art and videogames. I think the lousiest videogames can be considered art. Because bad games with no fun aren't really games, by definition."

Again, I would disagree. For now, our notion of games might require that they perform as consumer artifacts; as lightweight, escapist pieces of entertainment; as toys. But if we were to expand the range of what is considered a worthwhile experience in playing a game, the measure of mere commercial success as a defining precondition of "quality" for a game may no longer need apply. People might not aesthetically appreciate the atonal music of Philip Glass, but few would say that atonal music is completely without merit simply because the experience itself isn't widely accessible.

Don't get me wrong. I still understand that we're talking about games, here. But that might be part of the problem. Right now, almost any interactive piece that runs with the assistance of a computer or console is called a "game." With that moniker comes the assumption that the work is merely a trifle -- an amusement.

I don't propose that we add a new description to the lexicon which would only serve to confuse people and make the game industry appear overly full of itself. (Maybe I have a little empathy for Kojima's humility, after all.) Witness the comic book industry trying to rebrand their work as "sequential art" in the "graphic novel" format. Though I have the highest respect for the fine artists who have contributed to that field such as Will Eisner and Frank Miller, their PR efforts didn't work. And comics remain a niche medium in the States. It is my opinion that the video and computer game industry have already achieved more mainstream status than the comic book industry, anyway. But we still have a ways to go. Cultural awareness does not equal respect.

For now, we might as well keep the appellation and strive to improve the inherent worth of the experiences. After all, the term, "rock and roll" was originally a pejorative description of the form.

As in rock music, film, or other forms of popular mass media that are generally accepted as art, it is my opinion that it may be much more difficult to create a work that has universal appeal, and that can also be generally regarded as having high artistic merit. As opposed to creating something that is a fascinating piece of art, but that only appeals to a limited set of individuals. I'm just saying that I might play a game -- experience an interactive work of art -- and "get something out of it" that is worthy of the experience, but that might not be described purely in terms of "fun factor." Just like I might find it difficult to read the prose of James Joyce's Ulysses, but still find the experience valuable enough to re-read the novel in spite of my initial discomfort.

New York artist, Cory Arcangel has already mounted a few interactive exhibits, one of which fits Kojima's bill. By changing a few bits of GameBoy code, Archangel created the agonizing, nearly unplayable, "Super Slow Tetris." Archangel's pieces rely on the penetration of Nintendo's classic 8-bit era properties into cultural consciousness to create a referential kind of art that comments on the fact that videogames have officially entered Postmodernity. Even if one isn't a gamer, some of Arcangel's pieces, such as "Super Mario Clouds" have a certain aesthetic elegance and an almost impressionistic effect on the viewer.

Incidentally, this, and other interesting topics are covered in the December 9, 2005 episode of WNYC's Studio 360 which explores the topic of videogames.

One segment of the show highlights the use of games as military training simulators. These simulators elicited highly emotional responses from their participants. If that reaction could be directed to an intention of exploring unique and significant experiences, we might start to explore and expand the range of the medium's capabilities. To quote segment producer, Rachel McCarthy: "Perhaps the one big difference may be the intent of the player: a game is only just a game when the person using it chooses to see it that way."

-Tom